A fun Saturday, spent -- working. Ah well. Suede concert is in an hour. But first, a quick jog.

CONCERT WRAP-UP: A good show. They were energetic, and "on". The venue was fabulous; outdoors on a breezy night, with just a few clouds, some stars peeking through, and some skyscrapers as a backdrop. It's a lot easier to see over the heads of a Singaporean crowd than an American one. The crowd of 5000 or so was, I'd say, about one third Westerners. I even saw my second black person since I've been in Singapore (sadly, I did not have a camera). Everyone was into the show; I half expected people to be there out of curiousity, but they cheered in recognition at the beginning of most every song, and sang along to much of it. (It's seems there's a much hipper indie music scene here than I expected. We really must find out where they all hang out.) I myself was only familiar with one album, Coming Up, which was featured often in the set list (though sadly, not my favorite tune, She). Their best tune was one that I wasn't familiar with, but loved immediately: "She's In Fashion".

It was weird to see the crowd unified, like they never are in the US, in hand clapping, arm swaying, or singing, at the beckoning of frontman Brett Anderson. He finished by telling the crowd that Singapore was one of the few places in the world where he'd consider living.

They had the standard concert snacks, just like back stateside: kotong balls, otoh sticks, curry puffs... I kid. Strange food, but otherwise, for the most part, a very Western-like concert experience...

Apparently Bob, owner of Rocky's, had terminal cancer. This is the most recent information I've heard. I feel so bad for his kids. Regina and Rudi (who is quoted in the article) were really nice kids when I knew them, in spite of the fact that both their parents were crazy, and they'd seen way too much. Regina has a baby now. Last time I saw her she was so grown up and Bob was talking about taking better care of himself because he was a grandfather now. Funny how time flies. I remember taking Regina to the Womad concerts when she was around 12 and chatting with Rudi when he'd visit the restaurant. Both kids were really sweet, hope they still are. They've been through so much. There's a memorial service at the restaurant tomorrow for Bob. I may go.

A better run tonight, about 3K without stopping. Jogged down to a local park looking for a place to kick a ball around. No dice; just a trail around a lake. I will try again tomorow. In the other direction there's a school for the "Spastic Children's Association". No political correctness here, it seems. Maybe they have a soccer field, but I'm afraid I'll be harrassed by a bunch of spastic kids.

When I got back I made it running up a full 13 floors this time before feeling that urge to die. If there's ever a fire and I have to run up and save Marjorie, I hope she's patient.

My new baby. This is her. Now stop looking at her, she's mine. In my excitement to get her home I forgot to buy a guitar strap or picks, so I'm playing tonight using the edge of a credit card. My fingers have lost all their callouses, so I'm all hurty.

Let's get out there and start sucking! I'm all set to play soccer on Sunday. Well, except that I have no cleats, clothes, or stamina, and haven't played in ten years, but beyond that I'm ready. I've watched a lot on TV lately, and it doesn't look that hard.

Had Turkish food last night. It was nummy. Ended up at a nice little Irish pub that actually has bar trivia once a month, sponsored by some children-with-special-needs organization. How perfect is that? The owner and his wife were really nice too.

Me and my shadow: Beau follows me everywhere in the house. I go to the kitchen, Beau comes along. I go upstairs, Beau follows me (even though he is not allowed upstairs and he knows it). I go to the bathroom, Beau tries to push his nose into the door to open it. He obviously missed me. It's really sweet, but makes me feel guilty for not being here and for leaving in a week...Maybe he can come to S'pore with me. What do you think Mark?
In remembrance of Bob my former employer who recently killed himself, I'll try to recall some stories about Rocky's, the restaurant I used to work at as a waitress. Here's a quick description: A swanky (or trying to be) pizza/pasta restaurant in Buckhead. There's a list when you come in of all the celebrities that have eaten here. Among the list are Pat Buchanan and John Gotti (this dichotomy is very Rocky's. Bob befriended, or at least kissed the asses of all famous people and there was definitely some Mafia connection). Others that visited the restaurant in the time I worked there are: Jerry Garcia, Laurence Fishburn (met him, rather nice), Sinbad, Toni Braxton, Madonna, Joe Fraiser (a regular), Eldrin Bell(chief of police at the time), Max Cleland, GA Senator (who is a shitty tipper BTW)....there were lots of celebrities in the place over the years and many politicians (I became jaded about politics largely because of Rocky's. There is definitely a connection between politics and the Mafia. If you don't believe it just look up Bob's criminal record which was somehow overlooked and underpunished by the politicians that befriended him again and again).
There were also always LOTS of drugs in the restaurant. Both managers were heavy coke users. Most pizza cooks and several of the waitstaff were potheads who would sneak outside behind the garbage bins at night to get stoned. Many of the staff also took nips of beer, Chianti, or homey wine during their shift (homey wine is cheap really strong sangria-like wine the restaurant claimed was "home made" and served to guests with peaches. In actuality it was sold in screw top big old jugs like Boones Farm). I myself made a concoction of homey wine, sprite and pink lemonade on many occasions. Ironically, in spite of all the drug use, a lot of the kitchen staff were Muslim Moroccans who would take breaks during the day/night to pray. Many of these guys were perfectly nice, but some of them had serious issues with women and would constantly make advances on the waitresses.
And then there was Bob. Bob was also a coke addict (although I never saw him use it, just the effects). In the winter he would often stroll through the restaurant, chatting to guests, and pat at the guns in his gunbelt concealed under his jacket. On one particularly wild occasion after the restaurant had closed and all the staff had cleared out, Bob and one of his friends played "firing range" in the restaurant leaving several sweet little bullet holes that could then be seen above the smoking section booths and in the bathroom. The existence or raison d'etre for the holes was always denied, but they're there (still).
Bob was crazy, definitely, but not without some charm. He was always nice to me (although sometimes he scared me). And he wasn't stupid, he knew his life was bizarre and would make comments about it's soap opera-esque qualities he would refer to as "as the pizza turns". He had a good sense of humor and he generally treated his employees generously by feeding us most nights and letting us drink a free beer after shifts (while overlooking the stolen glasses of wine during the shift).
Many of the best friends I have in my life I met at Rocky's. The craziness of the place really somehow managed to create a (dysfunctional) family environment, which while totally insane, was really warm and fun a lot of the time. I'm going to see some other former employees this week. I'll pick their brains and see if I can come up with some of the better stories for you over the next week. There are sooo many stories to tell.

The Joys of Jet Lag. I'm back in Atlanta for a few days. After a very, very, very long and unpleasant flight, I've concluded (again) that United's economy class sucks. Japan air seems to be much better. I must really love my husband to be willing to get back on a plane and do the flight in reverse in a week.
I woke up at 2:00am this morning Atlanta time and called Mark. I then proceeded to take care of most of the tasks I'd planned for the day, so now at 7:40am, I'm feeling rather accomplished. I'm sure I'll pass out by 11:00am though, atleast hopefully I will so I can get in a good nap before Trivia this evening.
I've already gotten in some good puppy cuddling time with my parents' dogs, Beau and Sadie. I really miss them when I'm in S'pore. My dad refers to me as the "third puppy" which, honestly, is probably how Beau and Sadie see me. I'm not really an authority figure to them, just a pal that takes them out of the house to cool places like Piedmont Park and the Carter center where they can swim in stinky water and sniff lots of other doggys' butts. I also let them do lots of things they're not supposed to do, like come upstairs and sleep in a "people bed" with me.

Marjorie's home safe. I just a call from her. That's a load off. After thirty hours of flying, she might have to be threatened at gunpoint to get back on the plane again in ten days.

I stink right now. More than usual, I mean. Mildew is a big problem here, and the shirt I'm wearing today is getting more and more pungent as the day goes on. I just saw the repairman about fixing our dryer, so we hopefully won't have to hang things out to dry anymore, which is a big part of the problem.

Had some awesome dim sum for lunch today. I was a little trepidatious, since all I could remember from my last time having it (in Toronto) was eating lots and lots of tentacles. No tentacles this time, though I was saved at the last moment from accidentally ordering spicy chicken feet.

Sucking wind. Trying to get in shape for soccer. Tried to go for a jog last night, but got a cramp after about 500 meters (look at me, I'm Mr. Metric). Walked a little, jogged a little, walked a little... Got a second wind as I got back to our high rise, and tried to jog up the seventeen floors to our apartment. Could only make it up eleven. I feel like a fat tub of goo.

This takes me back. A more in-depth article on John Poindexter, who I used to work with. It even mentions the project I worked on with him (Genoa). Scary guy. But smart as all get out.

Back when I was working on this stuff, my roommates at the time cultivated their own image of what my job was. Their vision was like this: I stand out on the edge of a field, in a white lab coat, with a clipboard. Around me are a bunch of five-star generals and various military brass. In the middle of the field is a baby carriage. The whistle of a bomb dropping is heard. The baby carriage explodes. Everyone gives a golf clap and nods their approval at each other, as I jot down notes on my clipboard.

Not a terribly accurate job description, but it still kind of cracks me up. I'm quite glad not to be working in that industry anymore, though.

Google strikes again. Have you seen this? It appears that the mighty search engine Google is branching out into yet another searchable class of items -- namely, anything you might ever want to buy. You have to admire their chutzpah.

People have tried to make intelligent price-finding agents before, that automatically go out and find the cheapest price for something. They're usually met by resistance from the site owners who don't want their prices instantly compared to everybody else's. Google might have the clout to make it work this time.

There can be broad economic repercussions from this type of tool. Like, what chance does a store have if it's not selling something at the cheapest price to be found anywhere on the internet? Follow that to its logical end and someday every product might have a fixed price.

Hmmm, I looked again, and it doesn't actually do price comparisons. Maybe someday. Right now it's all about just finding the product you're looking for, which is still cool enough.

They need to branch this tool out a bit though, like the ability to filter for products that can actually be delivered to a given country. All the sites indexed by Froogle that I used to shop at won't deliver to Singapore. Sniff.

Beat the clock. I'm in the Hong Kong airport, trying to blog a few lines before getting (back) on a plane for 25 hours. I hate to fly inspite of my love for traveling. It literally hurts, I have to take sudafed and wear these funky ear plugs to keep my head from feeling like it's going to explode during every take off and landing.
I'm relatively fortunate today because they booked me in aisle seats the whole way, so at least I can go to the bathroom without disturbing anyone else.
Crazy about Bob, but like Mark alluded too, he lead a crazy life and this is not a surprising end. I'll have to write more about him when I have more time.
Wish me luck on the rest of my journey.

Marjorie's on her way back to Atlanta, to tie up loose ends and bring back some stuff. She should be on her way to Hong Kong right now; from there, on to San Francisco, then Atlanta. I don't envy her the 30 or so hours it'll take to get home. As for myself, to keep from getting lonely, tonight I'm going to go get a curvaceous new stand-in for her.

Marjorie's former boss killed himself last night, in dramatic fashion. I had met him a few times. I can't say I'm surprised -- not because he ever seemed depressed, but because Marjorie has relayed to me so many crazy stories about him (involving celebreties, the mafia, infidelities, etc.) that I had the feeling he wasn't going to die of old age. I'll let her clue you in.

Lousy stinking Eagles.

Earnest and Stupid This is a tag description I came up with awhile ago to describe the recipe for bad lyrics. Just think about it. Almost every Heavy Metal ballad (think "every rose has it's thorns") is earnest and stupid. Every boy band love song, the same. "Eternal Flame" by the Bangles, earnest and stupid. And yet, so many hits fall into this category. It really makes you wonder.
On a different note, we went to see "Full Frontal" tonight (the new Steven Soderbergh movie). It was....interesting. Not the best movie I've ever seen but it definitely gave us topics to discuss afterwards, which is what all good art should do -- provoke discussion.

Boring sports post. You have been warned.

In American football, my Eagles play their last game ever at Veteran's Stadium today. If they actually show it here (they've shown a few other games, but not all), it'll be at like 3 in the morning. I'm debating whether to get up. I never saw an Eagles game at the Vet, but I went to a few baseball games there as a child, and they are fond memories. I think the Phillies are still going to have their season there this year before they raze it. Anyway, go Eagles!

On to non-American football. We get a lot of English premier league coverage here. They even have a Manchester United store up the road (called Manchester United Kids!). Well, it seems that two players from Team USA are making their presence known out there. Brian McBride has had an awesome start while on loan to Everton for three months (three goals in two games, including an amazing bicycle kick goal). And Brad Friedel is being called the best keeper in the league, for Blackburn.

I've contacted some people via email and hopefully I'll be starting to play myself next week. I asked on the Expat Singapore discussion board if anyone knew of a league for out-of-shape windsuckers with deteriorated ball skills, and got a bite. I wonder how badly I'll stink up the field.

Giddy on good beer. We went out for German food tonight and I had a Paulaner Hefe-Weis Bier. Yum. Funny you can find better German food in Asia then in the States, but it seems to be so.
Afterwards we went to a bar and lost our Asian Karaoke virginity singing "All you need is love" (Mark), and "La Isle Bonita"(Me). We also met a fellow southern Expat, a gent named Lynn who we were able to chat with merrily about hawker centers, pedestrian life-style, and the joys of Tioman Island.
We are really enjoying living here. You all should definitely come and visit. S'pore's great. Really, and on so many different levels. I mean, how many other places can you spot a monkey while waiting for the bus?